More Confessions of a Hostie (8 page)

Well, I was going to make up a pseudonym for this actor, so as to respect his privacy, but he is such a nice man and I only have the nicest things to say about him, so I am sure he won't mind me writing about him or using his real name here. So, here goes. His name is Ronn Moss, and he plays Ridge Forrester in ‘The Bold And The Beautiful'. In person he is very sexy, much like he is onscreen, and seems a little bohemian as well. He has an earring or two, is sporting three-day-old stubble and is carrying a guitar. He looks more like a musician than an actor. While chatting with him later, I find out that he indeed is a musician as well.

I direct him to his seat which is 1K. He is in the seat opposite Helen.

As Mr. Moss puts his guitar in the overhead stowage, I peek around the corner. Yes, Helen is doing cartwheels. I had expected as much.

She catches my eye and then points toward Mr. Moss. ‘Oh my god – it's Ridge! It's Ridge!' she mouths, smiling. Helen lives for my onboard celebrity encounters, and now she is going to have one of her own. I couldn't be happier for her. Although I would have loved to sit with her and chat about how excited she is feeling now, duty calls again, and I have to answer.

During the boarding process, we can tell which passengers are going to be problematic for us by simply observing how they behave when they walk onto the aircraft. In the fleeting moments of greeting them at the front door – ‘Good morning, welcome onboard, if you could cross over to the other aisle, your seat is half way down the aircraft' – we can tell who is going to create drama for us later.

It is a safety and security requirement that every passenger show his or her boarding pass to us as they board the plane. It is an obligation, not an optional choice, and applies to every airline. Most passengers understand this and comply without a fuss, but every now and then a passenger takes exception to the fact that they have put the boarding pass in a pocket or a bag and have to find it again. There is one such problem-passenger on this flight too – a skinny, little gay guy wearing shorter than short shorts and a skimpy T-shirt two sizes too small. My gaydar (gay radar) is good, but I don't need it to know he is gay. Anyone on the planet would know he's gay by looking at the way he is dressed and the way he sashays down the aerobridge toward the aircraft.

The little man makes a huge scene at the boarding entry.

‘I am in 48C,' he blasts on entering the aircraft.

‘Yes sir, but we need to see your boarding pass,' I calmly request.

‘I showed it to the girl at check in,' he rudely argues.

‘Yes sir, but it is a security requirement that you show it again before you enter the aircraft,' I explain, still calm.

‘Why?' he yells.

The way he carries on, it almost seems like I have asked this guy to give up one of his kidneys.

'Have a look at everyone else, you self-centred, rude little man. Everyone else is showing their boarding passes, and they are not bitching and complaining. It is a legal requirement that you show the damn thing, so shut up and show it to me,' is what I wish I could say.

‘Please show me the boarding pass, sir. And do step aside while you are looking for it, so the other passengers may board. Thank you,' I tell him instead, politely, yet with authority.

When he finally does hand me the boarding pass, I smile courteously. And after I have thoroughly checked the details printed on it, I thank him for complying with our request and show him to his seat.

He snatches the boarding pass out of my hand and walks off in a huff.

Kate notes the deplorable behaviour of the man. When we get an opportunity to chat, between boarding passengers, she says, ‘Tell Damien to keep an eye on that one. 48C, wasn't it?' I nod, and I know exactly what she means.

Never reward bad behaviour, that's one of the tenets that we airline crew believe in. If someone is excessively and inexcusably rude to the crew, there is no way that the crew members will go out of their way to help that person. They will do the bare minimum, and that is all. Sometimes passengers have legitimate complaints, but when someone overreacts to a simple situation that is just so petty, then it is duly noted and the crew reacts (or under-reacts) applicably.

Experience has shown me that someone who makes a big deal about the little things once will do so repeatedly.

I would bet any amount of money that this is not the last we will hear from Mr. 48C.

When the boarding is complete, I head down to the back of the aircraft to help prepare the cabin prior to take-off. When the aircraft is not full, like today, many people want to swap seats. Everybody thinks that everyone else has a better seat than they do, and they try their best to switch.

The procedure with most airlines is you need to be in your allocated seat for take-off. Sometimes a P.A. is made to reiterate this practice. Both Damien and I have passengers requesting to move seats before take-off, and we inform them they must remain in their allocated seats for take-off, but as soon as we are in the air and the seatbelt sign has been turned off, they are free to move around the cabin and take any seat on this side of the curtain, as long as it isn't a crew seat.

A little old woman overhears our speech and decides to put her two cents worth in to Damien. ‘Do you have to have to sit in the seat allocated to you on your boarding pass, so that in case there is a crash, the authorities can match the seat with the body?'

Damien, in typical Damien-style, replies, ‘Sweetheart, if we do crash, I doubt very much if your body would be in the original seat you were sitting in anyway.'

I laugh so hard I nearly gag. The poor little old woman nearly has a heart attack. Damien does explain to her that he was only joking – eventually. He also explains the real reason for seating passengers in their allocated seats. It is all to do with the trim or balance of the aircraft. The pilots often have cargo in the hold weighted to help the balance of the plane, particularly for take-off. On flights that are not full, the passengers have been seated in areas so as to assist this balance. This is the official explanation, Damien tells her.

Besides, this also gives us the authority to keep some sort of control over the passengers – this, he doesn't tell the woman.

The boarding process is often the most stressful time on an aircraft and certainly a difficult time for the crew. Considering the time constraints and the pressure of doing an on-time departure, getting everyone to stow their luggage and be seated can be a painstaking experience. Add swapping seats and moving luggage into the equation, and we add further complications and further delays.

As I walk around, making sure we are OK for take-off, I notice that Mr. 48C is already making trouble for us. He has his seat fully reclined, although there is a person seated behind him, and his tray table is down, his large bag sitting on the vacant seat beside him. And, to make it all worse, he is making a phone call. A P.A. has just been made by Kate for all electronic equipment to be turned off, for seats to be kept upright, for tray tables to be put away, for window shades to be opened and for all bags to be stowed. This man has broken all the rules. The only instruction he has adhered to is having the shades up. Well, there's probably a good reason for that, I think to myself. He has one hand on the phone and the other pretentiously stroking his own face. There are no hands free to lean across and close the window shades.

I know that he can hear very well. I also know that he speaks English. So the only conclusion I can make for his blatant disregard for the instructions is arrogance. I have already witnessed a full display of it at the front door when we were boarding, so I know very well that it is arrogance – and arrogance to the highest order.

I do actually have a few moments before we arm the doors and begin our safety demonstration. ‘Arming' the doors pretty much means that we move a lever to engage a mechanism that will allow the slide/raft to be activated if the door was to open in an emergency. In other words, while the door is ‘armed' and if opened as such, an inflatable slide would pop out and we have a fast escape route from the aircraft. When we are at an aerobridge or have access to stairs, we ‘disarm' that mechanism, so the door can open normally, thus allowing access to those stairs or aerobridge and to let catering and cleaners come onboard. See, my emergency training and study have come in handy after all.

Rather than approach Mr. 48C and instantly use my authority to have him comply with the safety regulations (as I would love to do) I take a more diplomatic approach. I walk past him and begin my safety and security checks from the front of the zone. Mr. 48C is not the only one who has to be told to bring their seat upright or to secure their tray table. He is, however, the only one who is busy speaking into a phone and has a big bag unsecured and placed beside him.

Only two rows from Mr. 48C a man has his seat slightly reclined. I deliberately talk louder so that my intended audience can hear. ‘Excuse me sir, it is a safety requirement for take-off that you bring your seat all the way upright. Thank you very much.' This man complies with my request, of course.

I then move on to Mr. 48C. He is still on the phone, and it seems like he has not heard a word I have said.

‘Excuse me, sir?'

The rude little man does not acknowledge me at all, but I can hear him tell whoever is on the other end of the line that he has to hang up soon. I could just as easily wait until he has finished his conversation, but I could just as easily start yelling at this ill-mannered little man. I choose to tread the middle ground.

‘Excuse me again, sir, but it is a safety requirement that you turn off the phone immediately and—'

He interrupts me, ‘Yeah, yeah, I am turning it off now. Don't get your knickers in a twist.'

Now I want to yell. The middle ground is moving very quickly to the high ground. However, I control myself.

‘Sir, you will turn the phone off now, then you will bring your seat upright, stow your tray table and then take that bag on the seat next to you and place it on the floor under a seat in front of you. All this needs to be done now.' I walk away and continue my safety checks.

I have met rude and obstinate passengers many times before. Usually it is men who are chauvinistic, and I presume they just don't like taking directions from a woman. We had one such case on a flight years ago. Another female hostie had an issue similar to what had just occurred to me, but in her case the passenger had constantly argued and eventually even abused the flight attendant. She ran off (in tears) told the (female) onboard manager about this, who was also subsequently abused by the passenger, so the captain had to get involved. The captain told the man he needed to firstly adhere to every safety request the cabin crew instructed him to do and also apologise to the crew he had abused.

The man refused to apologise, and the captain had the man escorted from the aircraft by ground security. We later heard that the man joked with ground staff that he would simply catch a later flight.

Well, that's not how things turned out for him.

When a passenger fails to comply with a captain's directive, they firstly forfeit their ticket, without refund of course. They are then banned from flying, not only on the airline that they had committed the misdemeanor with, but on all airlines.

Mr. 48C has fortunately, for his sake, turned off his phone, returned his seat to the upright position, secured his tray table and stowed his bag. His facial expression remains sour though.

When I do my safety demonstration, he does everything but look at me. This guy doesn't just have a chip on his shoulder; he has a chip on both his shoulders.

It's probably not a coincidence that the rudest of passengers generally travelling on their own, I think to myself. No one can stand to be around them.

someone's manners are often a window to their soul

To avoid looking at Mr. 48C's unpleasant expression, after take-off, I go to the front of the plane to see Helen's beaming face (or as most of the crew now refer to her, ‘Your Majesty'). She has a glass of French champagne ready for her banquet of lobster and caviar (I jest about the lobster, but the food is certainly going to be better than the food down the back, where I am working).

As I return, I can see that our friend in 48C has pressed his call-bell and is aggressively beckoning for someone to come to him. Fortunately for me, that closest someone is Damien. Damien is gay as well, and his body language is almost as effeminate as the little man in 48C. However, just because two men are gay doesn't necessarily mean that they will get along. Most times they do, but sometimes they don't.

I can hear the man complaining to Damien that the aircraft is too cold. Actually, he is more than complaining – he is shrieking. Damien begins to explain that the aircraft temperature is normal, but before Damien has time to say anything more, the man rudely cuts Damien off. ‘I fly all the time, and I am telling you that this is not normal. It is f#@*ing cold!'

I hold my breath, waiting to see how Damien is going to handle this situation. From past experience Damien usually flies off the handle and says something cutting, rude and condescending, but on this occasion he bites his tongue.

Damien takes a moment to compose his thoughts and then replies, ‘You fly all the time, you say? OK, I'll be back in minute.' With that Damien walks toward the front of the aircraft.

What's he up to? I walk up and down the aisle, curious as a cat, wondering what Damien would do.

Damien returns a few minutes later, carrying a blanket, and my ears are burning. I position myself a few rows behind Mr. 48C so I can see and hear everything.

Damien approaches 48C, stops, then slowly and deliberately faces the little man and calmly responds, ‘When I said the cabin temperature was normal, I was talking based on the twenty years flying experience I possess. I have spent over 25,000 hours in air-conditioned aircrafts, but of course I wouldn't know what temperature is normal on an aircraft, so I went to see our onboard manager who also has around twenty years of flying experience. She also has all the temperature controls and gauges at her disposal, at her work station. She is also of the opinion that this temperature is normal. But since you fly all the time and have questioned my competency, I thought I should be doubly sure about the temperature on this flight before I came to you, so I rang the captain. He has over thirty years of flying experience, and also has the temperature controls, gauges as well as the master control for the whole aircraft in front of him. And guess what? He says this is normal temperature as well. So there you have it: three of us with almost eighty years of flying experience between us, and probably 100,000 hours of working on air-conditioned aircrafts. And the verdict? Normal.'